In Memoriam
by Sheila51
Summary: This story is about those long dead. It is of Uther Castas, his wife Igraine, and her beautiful daughter, Morgana... Pre-movie fluff and angst
1. Prologue: In my memory she still lives

**In Memoriam...

* * *

**

_A/N: Damn the evil plot bunnies! They won't leave me alone! So I'm writing this story as well. Please check out my other King Arthur stories! And don't forget to Review, you'll get a cookie!

* * *

_

_Prologue: In my memory she lives..._

_This story is about those long dead. It is of Uther Castas, his wife Igraine, and her beautiful daughter, Morgana..._

_My Father was a tall handsome man. He and I are as different as could be in many ways, bar one, well do I remember his strong features, mine are much the same, though I do not have his fine brown hair, and dark skin._

_Rather I have my mother's lighter skin and her great love of justice. Though my mother lived through many injustices she never lost her faith in others. She lost parents, brothers and her beloved first husband, yet she lived, she survived. My mother was a strong woman, she survived her husband's death and just a few months later gave birth to her daughter by him, Morgana. She refused all her husbands family's attempts to take the young girl away from her, she lived on a small farm. And that was where Morgana grew older, and with each passing year, so my mother said, grew more and more beautiful._

_I do not remember her well, I was young when she died, when my mother wept and my father almost lost his faith, but I do remember some things about her. She and I, we have the same eyes. Large and expressive hers were, and they changed colour in the light, sometimes seeming to blaze like emeralds caught in the sun, at other times though they were the dark colour of the forests of our shared homeland. And framed they were by hair like precious metal, glinting in the sunlight as her laughter rang through the hills, glowing softly in the candlelight as she sang me to sleep. _

_In my memory she is alive and her eyes sparkle still though they were darkened by death long ago..._


	2. How to begin

**In Memoriam...

* * *

**

_A/N: Please Review!

* * *

_

_Chapter I: How to begin._

_I sit here staring at the parchment wondering how I start to tell this story. I am telling a story from my childhood, spoken by my mother after I had begged her for stories of my sister and father. She always began with Morgana, but it seems to me to be more appropriate to start with my mother._

_My mother was a strong Briton woman. As a young girl she was married to a man she had loved since childhood._

_The tall bride smiled, her gray eyes smiling at her new husband. He was taller, his eyes a rich green, his golden hair shone in the light of the sun. He leaned down and the two lovers shared a gentle kiss as their families watched on. Igraine smiled into Morgan's eyes as they parted, she turned with him as their families cheered. Her ancient mother and her two brothers watched on, their happiness obvious to all, despite the tears that ran down her mothers cheeks._

The tall woman bent down to clear away the weeds around the struggling vegetables, her callused hands were strong and swiftly they worked. She paused and rubbed at her back as she straightened Through the evening air she heard whistling and smiled as her husband came into view on the hill, a brace of rabbits slung over one shoulder a bow over the other as he came down the distant hill, the sun outlining his tall frame. Her heart lifted at the sight of him. She smiled and moved to the gate, self-consciously she brushed the dirt from her hands and pushed back her dark tresses. The tall man raised a hand in greeting as he approached.

She ran a hand over her stomach as she thought of her news. Her lip was caught between her teeth as she pondered how to tell him he would be a father. She smiled even wider as he broke into a jog. He took the bow and brace and placed them to one side as he reached the gate. His arms wrapped around his wife. He kissed her as he lifted her off her feet. She laughed at his enthusiastic greeting He grinned and kissed her again, his intentions clear as his fingers sought the tie that held her dress in place, she took his hands and dragged them away from the fastenings. She laughed and sent him towards the door with a shove.

"Later!" she laughed as he tried to kiss her again. "Your dinner has been getting cold." She waved him inside. "Go!" he laughed and disappeared inside.

* * *

She entered the main part of the cottage having cleaned his equipment and placed the dead animals to hang. The small cottage had mud walls separating it into three areas. This one had two chairs on either side of a table, a fire with a crude chimney nearby and another chair by a window with wooden shutters through which a cool breeze was blowing. She gave her husband a smile as she went over to the window and closed it, locking out the night breeze. She went to sit across from him, he smiled as he dipped bread into the stew she had made of vegetables and dried meat. She cupped her chin in one hand as she watched him, he ate delicately, with the graces one would expect of the son of a chief raised in distant Rome.

He looked up at her, his eyes catching hers, a smile brightened his face as she blushed. He reached out and brushed her face with his fingertips. He traced her soft lips and smiled.

"Let me put this away..." he said softly, his voice husky.

He did not find out that night of his soon to be joy.


End file.
